Sand Creek

April 25, 2012
More by this author
We’re running for the finish line,
the end in sight,
just a few more hurdles,
just a few more.

And yet,
fatigue sets in,
and nobody’s watching,
so we pummel right through
the hurdles,
hurting our solid gold bodies.

The obstacles
we no longer jump over,
topple to the ground,
putting up an effort to sprain us,
when we could have worked mutually,
and won fairly,
in symbiosis.

We’re running,
our souls damaged,
but still running,
as we leave the pieces of plastic in the dust,
toward the finish line;
but this is only the beginning.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback